


Hollow

by what_in_the



Category: Original Work
Genre: Dealing with depression?, Gen, University, mentions of self harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-30
Updated: 2017-03-30
Packaged: 2018-10-12 22:09:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10500441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/what_in_the/pseuds/what_in_the
Summary: A University student deals with one of their Hollow days, the days where nothing seems to really matter except keeping their negative thoughts under control.





	

I knew it was going to be a bad day the moment I woke up. It’s not that I woke up late or I felt ill or there was anything really that was planned for the day. It was just a feeling; one I had been trying to avoid for the rest of my life. I felt hollow; empty. I didn’t want to get up.  
Normally, I would be up and about within 5 minutes of waking up, 10 if I was feeling a little cheeky. Today it took me 20 minutes to drag myself out of bed and into the shower. The rest of the morning progressed just as slowly, with me barely even remembering to grab myself breakfast. I made it to the station in time to catch my train, the only rational part of my mind was thankful for keeping my alarm as early as it was. The rest of me still felt numb.  
The 20 minute train ride only confirmed what I had suspected; I was having one of my really down days. As the negative thoughts and general loathing began to set in, I contemplated why I may be feeling this way. It had been a long time since I had gotten like this, not for years. Nothing had happened recently that would have triggered it off, and there was nothing in the near future that would have caused it either.  
I made it to my lecture in time and put on my ‘happy face’ for everyone to see. I had down days, I had days when I was fed up with the world, I had days where I was just hurting for no apparent reason. I was supposed to be the friend that anyone could talk to; I was supposed to be the happy one. I never let anyone really know how bad it really was. Today might have been worse than normal, but my mask still held pretty well.  
I started on my usual strategies to deal with it, knowing that I had to at least try for the sake of the people who I cared about. I wrote out the intrusive thoughts as they appeared, not letting them take hold; I listened to the audio that I knew worked to calm me down; I even complained to my friends a little, allowed them to see a fraction of what was going on and let them offer what they thought was help. It barely made a difference. It wasn’t their fault, just mine. Always mine.  
I don’t know what you would call this feeling of emptiness, is it depression? I don’t know. All I know is that when I have my down days like this, I stop caring. I just want to go back to sleep because it’s the easiest way to escape my own thoughts. I act happy, act normal, but in reality I’m just going through the motions. I just want to sleep through the bad days until I can wake up on my better days when I’m feeling happy and creative and the only negative thoughts are at the back of my head instead of right in front of my eyes.  
By the time the first lecture had finished, my mask was on pretty solidly. While I wasn’t acting overly happy, I seemed to be content at the very least. I had mastered this years ago and I was so glad that I did. My friends knew I wasn’t feeling the best but I had made sure that they only saw the surface. Nothing too deep. Don’t let them know or they can hurt you, even if they don’t mean to. It always works out that way. I’m just weird. It’s not their fault.  
I had a decent sized break between lectures, as well as some time for lunch. I paused for a few minutes, trying to decide if I even wanted to eat. At least feeling hungry was better than feeling the writhing thoughts in my head. Was it worth it? In the end I decided that I would put off my hunger for the time being, but I would eat before my next lecture. I shouldn’t skip meals, it would hurt everyone who cares about me. Haven’t I done that enough?  
I tried to get some work done, and I did manage a bit. It should have taken me an hour at most. I let it take me two. I could feel the hunger nipping away at my insides, my small breakfast barely keeping me going at this point. Still I held off. It’s not that I thought I was fat or that I shouldn’t eat, I just didn’t care to. I happened on days like today. I’d either stuff myself silly trying to block out the thoughts or I’d hold off the hunger as long as possible so I could at least feel like I’d accomplished something.  
I ate in the end, nothing massive or particularly satisfying, just enough to fill me up until I could go home. With the loss of the hunger, the thoughts came back, just as hard. My hand was cramping as I tried to keep up with the speed they were pouring out of my mind.  
The next lecture came and went, nothing too exciting. I got some pathetic attempts at notes written down, but in reality I could barely find the will to focus. I was even tempted to do _that_ again. It helped me stay grounded, it helped me focus on days like these. It let me be in control. But I didn’t because I had promised not to, and somewhere in the back of my mind I knew it was wrong. I shouldn’t have relied on it before. I was just too weak back then.  
Another gap, another chunk of time wasted. I decided that going on YouTube would be my best bet, it usually helped me cheer up on my down days. Surprisingly, after a few hours of mindlessly watching grown men scream at video games, I felt a little better. The thoughts were less hard hitting now, I felt less hollow; there was something there again. It helped that the ones who I did watch always wanted to help people with problems, regardless of what they were. They often helped people with depression and anxiety just by being around and offering kind words. My own mental problems weren’t so easily remedied it seemed.  
Why am I even bothering with trying to define it? I am weird, my brain is weird, I don’t deserve the help. I have always been alone with it; even in the biggest groups, people are always alone with their minds. Mine just so happened to like to kick me in the ass when I couldn’t even do the simple things.  
I was relieved when the final lecture rolled around. It meant that the day was almost over and I could go home. I could curl up and watch YouTube until my body gave out on me and then I could sleep without worrying about any sort of dreams.  
The thing about the final lecture is that it always feels the longest, and it always has a lot of important information that you need to remember. I needed to focus to make sure I got a good enough grade.  
I felt the urge hit me again, I needed to focus and that was something that wasn’t coming easily. If I did it, I wouldn’t need to force myself so hard. I could ground myself and maybe be a little productive. My nails were long enough after all. A little pinch on my leg, a grip on my arm, it wouldn’t take much. I had almost caved a few times today; why not just let it happen, let myself feel?  
No, it wasn’t right. I promised I wouldn’t hurt myself like that anymore. I wouldn’t be weak anymore, I had to be strong. I would just have to tough it out until the end. Surely, I could manage that.  
I did, but barely. My notes were more coherent and I absorbed all the information I needed, but I was exhausted. It was easier when I didn’t care. My thoughts, though, wouldn’t allow me to falter too badly; if my grade slipped because of something as simple as this I doubt I would be able to manage anymore. Maybe I’d finally end up with a shrink, or in the looney bin. Maybe that wasn’t a bad thing.  
My trip home was uneventful, as was dinner. I blamed my lack of enthusiasm on tiredness; my family didn’t question it, I am a university student after all. Being tired was part of the package.  
Finally, I got to curl up and just let myself be numb again. I didn’t need to feel when I was alone in my bedroom, watching YouTube. I could just let my mask fall away and enjoy the blissful emptiness that surrounded me in contrast to the pulsing dark mass that had inhabited my head for the entire day. At some point while I was watching, wrapped up in my bed with my laptop balanced on my bedside table, I fell asleep. It was a peaceful transition, nothing forced or painful about it; just exhaustion finally claiming my body and mind. As I let go with the greatest pleasure possible to me in that state, only one thing remained.  
_I hope tomorrow is a better day._

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, so I've been dealing with something like this for a while. It's not quite so bad, but I do have hollow days. Writing it out helps. It helped with today's one.


End file.
